


Yanagi Gets Catfished

by gaymiens



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Fangan Ronpa - Fandom, Ultimate Danganronpa: Supernova at Sea
Genre: Alix Murasaki Owns A Youtube Channel, Catfishing, Character Death Warning for Yanagi Ryuumatsu's Ego, Don't Forget DL-6, Gen, He He He Get It Because Hideki's Nickname Is Tiger Shark?, It's a Cat Fish, Katsuo Orutoku Voice: Can I Offer You A Voucher In This Trying Time?, Robin You Owe Me A Pizza For Writing This, The Ships are BARELY Mentioned, Tinder But For Sapiosexuals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 07:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaymiens/pseuds/gaymiens
Summary: Yanagi Ryuumatsu had never really given a thought towards romance.That is, until his office had made their annual end-of-year social a couples-only event. Yanagi is pressed for time to find a date tolerable enough to spend a grand total of two hours with... but what happens when his worst nightmare happens on the first date?------------------This is entirely based off of the fanfiction "Ultimate Danganronpa: Supernova at Sea". All characters belong to the author of UDR:SAS, Robin- or "gokuharas" here on AO3. If you haven't read UDR:SAS yet, what are you even doing here?





	Yanagi Gets Catfished

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gokuharas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gokuharas/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Ultimate Danganronpa: Supernova at Sea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12637152) by [gokuharas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gokuharas/pseuds/gokuharas). 



> Welcome to the UDR:SAS bible.

Yanagi Ryuumatsu had never really given a thought towards romance.

 

He’d been more focused on his career, and his appearance, and frankly, anything except romance. The only reason he was even  _ considering  _ making this stupid account on this equally-stupid website was because his office was having a Christmas party in the next few weeks and… frankly, Yanagi was tired of being left out of the proceedings just because he was far younger than the rest of his company’s employees. He already got flustered enough listening to his co-workers brag about  _ their  _ significant others, and how they were going to treat  _ them  _ to the couples-only event, like this was some sort of fucking high school prom instead of the professional end-of-year social it was.

 

The idea of a “couples-only” event for a law firm was probably the most ridiculous part of the whole equation, but Yanagi would be darned if he was going to let that restriction stop him from one-upping the miserable people he worked with. If they wanted to treat him like a child, and a romantically inexperienced one at that, they were going to be in for a big surprise. 

 

Granted, online dating was probably the wrong way to go about things, but it was certainly the most convenient. Face-to-face encounters would mean Yanagi would  _ actually _ have to be social for long periods of time with his “date”, who he was fully intending to ditch as soon as the two-hour event drew to a close. He didn’t want to have to deal with anything after that- no whiney begging to go on dates, no- god forbid-  _ emotional intimacy _ , no actual commitment had to be made. Not to mention, despite his natural charisma and charm, he tended to… push people away in-person. Not that he had any idea  _ why _ . Maybe some people just couldn’t handle greatness.

 

(Or, maybe they couldn’t understand him once he started stuttering under pressure. Not that he was ever going to admit that to himself.)

 

Yanagi navigated to the “Create a New Profile” page, hesitating for a split second. While this was always going to be a temporary thing, and he could simply wipe his account as soon as the whole ordeal was over, it was still slightly humiliating to put his personal information on a website titled “Sophisticated Savants Searching for Soulmates”. The obtrusive alliteration was one of the more off-putting aspects of the entire website, but it wasn’t like he was going to sink to a grimey cesspit like most other dating websites. At least this one guaranteed him a lower chance of running into someone who was earnestly “DTF”, or someone who would send him a “dick-pic” within the first few seconds of getting to know him. No, this was his best choice for now.

 

Yanagi’s cursor hovered over the “USERNAME” section, as he pondered what would be appropriate to place in here. He could, of course, just use his actual name- but he’d run the risk of one of his co-workers discovering him, and he’d probably  _ die  _ of embarrassment if the information that he was resorting to a dating website got out amongst them. Instead, Yanagi settled for something a little less obvious:  _ Ryuujin.  _ It was simple, sophisticated- invoking the figure of a legendary dragon god would hopefully draw in more cultured singles. The rest of the profile was easy enough to fill out- gender, location, gender  _ preference _ , all were vaguely trivial details that wouldn’t immediately lead to the assumption that this was  _ Yanagi’s  _ profile, and not just any other bisexual, Tokyo-dwelling man.

 

The profile picture was another quandary altogether, but Yanagi simply had to suck it up and use a picture of himself. Anonymity was good, but he was far less likely to attract anyone if there was  _ zero  _ proof he was an actual human being. He selected one of him in a new suit of his, where the lighting obscured half of his face in a rather dramatic way. It would have to do for now. At first glance, he was unrecognisable, and that was all that mattered. 

 

With the completion of his profile over and done with, Yanagi leaned away from the computer screen, surveying his work. No doubt he’d be overwhelmed with inquiring messages any second now. 

 

…

 

Any second, now.

 

When a good solid thirty minutes had passed, Yanagi’s attention flickering between the mocking computer screen and a few scattered case documents, he finally admitted that maybe his courtship wouldn’t be quite so  _ immediate.  _ Especially seeing as he’d only included the barest amount of personal information, and hadn’t attempted to add any “friends” to his profile or, heaven forbid, actually  _ send a message  _ to any prospective dates.

 

However, the time limit  _ was  _ looming, and it would take awhile before he was going to find someone suitable before the date of the dance. He was looking for someone very specific- refined, but not overtly pretentious- nobody who thought  _ they  _ were better than  _ him.  _ Yanagi wouldn’t allow himself to be put down that way. It was a betrayal to the very core of his personal values. Respectable intellect, good dress sense, plenty of useless trivia knowledge to last the duration of two-hours’ small talk with him and his colleagues. 

 

Yanagi collected his pride, scrolling down the “Singles Near You” portion of the website. Immediately, he could discredit half of the list- he wasn’t looking for anyone older than twenty, and the amount of desperate thirty-somethings on this website was appalling. Once he’d narrowed the pool down to those that fit that basic age criteria, he could discount half of them again for being obvious fake accounts, meant to ridicule the people who used this website. Surely no legitimate user would name their account “DicksOutForPlato”, would they? 

 

On the third page of the extensive list, a profile just so happened to catch his eye. Eighteen, male, an attractive profile picture, and the username  _ “Desciple_of_Socrates”.  _ A philosophy enthusiast, perfect. Those people could keep talking for days. Yanagi clicked on the profile, and his hope only grew. A small green dot next to the name indicated that he was online, and most importantly, the short bio section included in his profile indicated he was looking for an “intellectual partner” with “high social standing” and “a desire for long conversations”. Yanagi certainly happened to meet the first two criteria, and the last would be useful for his date’s intended purpose.

 

Yanagi gathered his wits, clicking on the “Send a Message” button next to the “Disciple’s” username. 

 

**_Ryuujin:_ ** _ Greetings. My name is Yanagi Ryuumatsu, and I am looking for a romantic partner to join me in attending a Christmas party in my law firm. I believe that I fit the criteria in your “bio”, and that you fit my own personal criteria. _

 

Maybe that might have been a little bit forward, but Yanagi didn’t have time to spare. He had to make sure that he wasn’t pursuing an uninterested party. It took a few minutes for the “Disciple” to reply, time spent nibbling on the end of a cheap ballpoint pen. A small ding altered him to a reply, and he nearly choked on the pen in shock. Yanagi spluttered, spitting out the pen and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. His eyes flitted to the screen, reading the messages the “Disciple” had left him.

 

**_Disciple_of_Socrates:_ ** _ I’m pleased to meet you, Ryuumatsu-san.  _

 

**_Disciple_of_Socrates:_ ** _ What chance that fate has brought us together- or, depending on your school of belief, what coincidence it is that our choices have aligned in such a way to facilitate our meeting. _

 

**_Disciple_of_Socrates:_ ** _ The invitation sounds promising, especially as my own Christmas plans are non-existent, but you must understand I cannot blindly accept a proposition from a faceless messenger. _

 

**_Disciple_of_Socrates:_ ** _ Ah, but how have I forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Rouvin, Rouvin Minerva. I am a student of philosophy, as you may have gathered from my username.  _

 

Yanagi blinked. The messages had been sent rapidly, far faster than he thought it was humanly possible to type. And while the third had seemed rather discouraging, that didn’t mean that he could immediately discredit this Rouvin as a potential date. If he was in the same position, he would surely have felt the same towards a stranger propositioning for a date within the first few seconds of meeting him.

 

**_Ryuujin:_ ** _ That’s understandable. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Minerva-san.  _

 

**_Ryuujin:_ ** _ As you would most likely gather from my previous statement, I am a lawyer. A defense attorney, to be exact.  _

 

Yanagi wasn’t really sure… how he would go about winning Rouvin’s trust. That was one crucial step in his plan he had completely neglected. How naive of him. Maybe he should just forgo the social entirely, it wouldn’t be the end of the-

 

**_Disciple_of_Socrates:_ ** _ How interesting. What a unique moral situation you’re in- having to defend those who may be ethically in the wrong. Fascinating. _

 

**_Disciple_of_Socrates:_ ** _ And, whilst I am still not entirely convinced that I should attend your office social, it would be quite nice to get to socialise with other members of your profession. _

 

**_Disciple_of_Socrates:_ ** _ But first… I feel like we should have an introductory meeting. I’ve always been rather more eloquent in-person rather than online, and I can be able to assess your character more accurately. _

 

It was… was it  _ really  _ going to be that easy?! Within the first twenty minutes of contact, he’d already managed to find an offer for a date? Sure, it wasn’t the ideal, but Yanagi would take what he could get at this point. It was probably best he meet this Rouvin in-person anyway- he would hate to invite him directly to the office and find out he was some loser who hid in his parent’s basement, and who’s only intellectual qualifiers were that he’d managed to get above a 100 in an online IQ test.

 

**_Ryuujin:_ ** _ That sounds agreeable. Do you want me to arrange the meeting, or would you rather do it yourself? _

 

Yanagi was equally apprehensive about both ideas. If he was tasked with finding a nice place, he’d have to somehow get reservations in the middle of Christmas season, which would be a hassle and a strain on his wallet. If Rouvin were to select the place, that would be  _ his  _ burden to bear, but Yanagi would have to accept the chance that he’d select some hole-in-the-wall crummy diner.

 

**_Disciple_of_Socrates:_ ** _ I’d rather I arrange it, if that’s quite alright with you. Seeing as I suggested it, it’s only proper I book the appointment, no? _

 

**_Disciple_of_Socrates:_ ** _ How does the Amaranthine sound? _

 

The Amaranthine… no, how the hell had he managed to find a booking  _ there?!  _ Still, Yanagi wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity.

 

**_Ryuujin:_ ** _ Wonderful. When can I expect to meet you? _

 

**_Disciple_of_Socrates:_ ** _ I’d rather this be done sooner than later. Does tomorrow night sound good? I have a table already arranged then. I like to dine there, on occasion. _

 

**_Ryuujin:_ ** _ Ah, yes, that’s perfect then.  _

 

**_Disciple_of_Socrates:_ ** _ Tomorrow at seven it is. I’m looking forwards to meeting you, Ryuumatsu-san. _

 

**_Ryuujin:_ ** _ The feeling is mutual, Minerva-san. _

 

And with that, the little green dot next to Rouvin’s name went grey, and Yanagi sunk back into his seat. What had he just gotten himself into…? If things went terribly, at the very least he was guaranteed a free meal at one of the most prestigious high-end restaurants in Tokyo. Either way, it was a win/win situation, right…?

 

Yanagi would have to keep telling himself that.

 

* * *

 

The night was cold, and Yanagi wrapped his coat tighter around his frame to keep out the chill. His heels clacked against the marble floor of the skyscraper’s lobby, as he paced, waiting for the elevator to descend. He felt underdressed, despite his constant self-assurances that he was wearest one of the finest, most fashionable outfits in his wardrobe. He’d never felt so vulnerable before, so open to judgement- and, frankly, it was a little bit horrifying.

 

Rouvin had, presumably, already arrived. Yanagi blamed the horrid public transport system for that particular transgression. He had left his apartment early for a  _ reason _ , not to get stuck in the underground’s equivalent of a  _ traffic jam  _ for thirty minutes. They were trains, for heaven’s sake, not cars! It was already irritating how  _ unhygienic  _ they tended to be. But he had no time to waste mentally berating the train system- now he had to hurry. 

 

The door to the elevator beeped, and Yanagi swiftly stepped inside in one fluid motion. It was empty apart from him, and he felt vaguely small in the looming, mirror-filled interior. No elevator had any right to be  _ this  _ intimidating. He’d covered a case where an elevator occupant had been murdered, once. Probably not the best thing he should be thinking about right now, but at least if the date went badly, there was always the chance he could be spontaneously shot through the metal doors and his suffering would end quickly.

 

The elevator doors slid open, and Yanagi stepped out into the main restaurant. He swallowed dryly, adjusting the lapels on his suit jacket. It was considerably warmer here than the lobby, which was a relief. He didn’t want to be shivering throughout the entire date. Rouvin might get the idea that he was  _ nervous!  _ Which he was, definitely,  _ certainly  _ not.

 

The waitstaff escorted him to his table the instant he mentioned he was with a “Rouvin Minerva”, although one of them sent him a… vaguely pitying look? He couldn’t understand why, but a part of him loathed that waiter-or-whatever-he-was for making Yanagi feel even  _ more  _ self-conscious about this whole ordeal. Stupid acorn-looking motherfu… okay, maybe that was a bit harsh. He didn’t  _ really  _ look like an acorn, and that  _ look  _ could be interpreted in  _ several  _ different ways. There was nothing to worry about!

 

Yanagi seated himself down at the table, looking over at Rouvin. His first impression was that he seemed a lot… smaller than he did in his profile picture. It must have just been the angle, then, but Yanagi couldn’t help but feel somewhat disappointed.

 

The second thing he noticed was his odd style of dress. He was wearing a hood- not a  _ hoodie _ , but an actual medieval-style hood attached to a cape. Yanagi hoped he at least  _ owned  _ a suit, if he was going to be presentable for the office social. He couldn’t exactly drag in his date if they looked like an extra from the Lord of the Rings, now could he?

 

The hood covered a portion of Rouvin’s face- perhaps it was meant to empathise some sort of mysterious charm? All it really did was make Yanagi uncomfortable, although he was too far deep into this mess to back out now just because of somebody’s  _ fashion choices.  _

 

“So… Minerva-san,” he began, grabbing an empty water glass and absently rubbing his fingers against it. The cool feeling was soothing, enough to ground him in some semblance of reality, “T-tell me about y-yourself. I imagine the life of a philosopher m-must be interesting.” 

 

To Yanagi’s surprise, Rouvin simply held up one finger, grinning at him in a way that made Yanagi feel more uncomfortable than he already was. Rouvin picked up a glass- this one already filled with water- and downed it. He placed it down on the table, a little bit harsher than one might normally. Yanagi’s heart skipped a beat.

 

“Before I tell you anything…” Rouvin began, voice sharp and dark, “I want you to answer a question for me. Just one. It shouldn’t be that hard.” For some reason, the voice sounded familiar.

 

Yanagi was gripping the glass a little tighter than he should right now, and he could feel his cheeks burning. What did Rouvin want from him? Was this a test? When the online bio had said “intellectual partner”, did that mean Rouvin was going to impose a  _ challenge  _ on him in the first few seconds of the night, just to test his intelligence? Surely, Yanagi would pass. He wasn’t an idiot. But he knew if he said anything in this state, it’d come out a jumbled, stuttered mess, and he wasn’t really sure if he wanted to deal with that.

 

“I-I-I, uh, y-yes, of course, w-what do you- what do you w-want to ask m-me?” Yanagi cringed at the sound of his own voice, but Rouvin’s smile only grew sharper. He leaned forwards, placing both hands on the table until his face was mere inches from Yanagi’s. Yanagi had never felt more threatened in his entire life.

 

In a swift motion, Rouvin ripped the hood from his face, eyes flashing with mirth and bright green hair springing out from it’s confines. He chuckled darkly, before spitting out the question Yanagi had been fearing: “Hey, what’s your credit card number?”

 

Yanagi took a few good seconds to process the sight before him, to absorb the words flung so crudely at his face. Yanagi’s eyes felt like they were going to bug out of his skull, as horrified recognition suddenly swarmed them.  _ It was  _ **_him_ ** _.  _

 

Yanagi remembered the case like it was yesterday, if only because it was one of his most  _ annoying  _ ones to-date. Things would have gone a lot smoother for his client, if one of the witnesses called to the stand- a slouching, sleazy man dressed in what looked to be  _ entirely  _ clothes lifted from a going-out-of-business thrift shop- hadn’t been such a  _ pain in the ass _ about his testimony. To make things worse, after Yanagi had confronted him post-trial, he’d found his  _ credit card  _ had gone mysteriously missing. 

 

“ _ You, _ ” Yanagi found himself hissing, eyes narrowed into thin lines. His nails scrambled against the marble of the table as he leant forwards himself, face caught in a harsh snarl. The witness lidded their eyes, a shit-eating grin captured on his face, and sank back into his chair.

 

It only took a moment for his lazy satisfaction to turn into full-blown amusement, and soon he was gripping the edge of the table in an effort not to slide straight out of his seat from his laughter. His cackles filled the restaurant, causing several patrons’ heads to whirl around to Yanagi’s table. In an instant, Yanagi’s face had turned bright red, and he picked up one of the scattered water glasses, lobbing it directly at the conman’s face. It shattered, and Yanagi was dimly away of someone screaming. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out if it was him or his “date”.

 

The next moments were a rush, as Yanagi found him lifted out of his seat by the nervous-looking staff member from before. He screamed- and it was definitely him this time, not the stupid-looking motherfucker at the other end of the table. The occupants from the table next to them had risen, one of them looking like she was having a full-blown panic attack, the other rushing to make sure that the fucking  _ snake  _ of a man wasn’t injured. Fuck them all. Yanagi was making a complete fool out of himself, simply because one man thought it would be okay to- what was the word?  _ Catfish  _ him! 

 

“Sir, please, you need to calm down- sir, put your heel down!” the staff member- a security guard, most likely, yelled, but Yanagi didn’t listen. With as much fury as he could muster, he chucked his heel- expensive, Gucci, he was never getting that back- directly at the catfishing asshole. Or… he intended for it to be a direct throw, at least. Instead, it ended up bouncing off the head of the large woman who had attended to the asshole’s bleeding head wound. Whoops.

 

She spun around, and Yanagi could hear the security guard sigh in exasperation. She looked like she was going to say something, annoyance written all over her features, but upon catching sight of her (girlfriend? Friend? Colleague?)  _ dining partner’s  _ apparent mental breakdown, she merely chucked the heel over her shoulder and stood up to go attend to her. It ended up hitting the asshole on the head anyway. Score one, Yanagi.

 

Somehow, by some odd chance, Yanagi’s excessive squirming and violent thrashing movements actually managed to loosen the security guard’s hold on him. Yanagi immediately threw himself forwards, stopping only to pick up his heel again, and launched himself onto the catfisher. He was ready this time, though- apparently a glass and a heel to his face had managed to heighten his reflexes, who knew? Yanagi found himself being flung to the ground, the pitiful excuse for a man landing directly on top of him.

 

The resulting scuffle was far from pretty. Yanagi grabbed a handful of hair and tugged forwards, which resulted in the catfisher- for the life of him, Yanagi just couldn’t remember his name- smearing his bloody face all over Yanagi’s shirt and coat. Disgusting. 

 

It took three staff members- the aforementioned security guard, a bartender who had wandered over from the kitchen, and a bubbly (yet strangely muscular) singer who had spotted the scuffle from her position near the stage and had scampered over to help- in order to pull Yanagi off of the catfisher. The singer slung him over her shoulder, skipping away to the elevator, before unceremoniously dumping him in it.

 

“I’m totes sorry for having to do this, but you were, like, making a big fuss and so… like… we have to throw ya out. Sorry!” she chirped, flashing Yanagi a peace sign and winking. 

 

“Uh… yeah. Sorry, Hideki does this all the time… so I don’t really blame you, but… company policy,” the security guard offered, “Uh… Mamugi, do you have like, a voucher I can give this guy?”

 

Wordlessly, the bartender- Mamugi, Yanagi assumed- pulled a voucher out of her pocket and dropped it into his lap. 50% off his next purchase wasn’t a bad deal, but it was nowhere near close to making up the loss of pride impacted on him this night. Yanagi opened his mouth to say something, but the bubbly entertainer leaned into the elevator and pressed the “doors closed” button before he could speak.

 

“Come again soon!” she yelled, waving at him, and then he was left alone in his elevator of solitude. Yanagi stood up, stuffing the voucher into his pocket, and proceeded to kick the side of the elevator. Oh, fuck, ouch, that fucking hurt, fuck, why did he do that?!

 

Yanagi pressed the “DOWN” button, leaning against one of the walls and scowling. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself down. So, that was a shitshow. Out of all the potential outcomes of this date: rejection, acceptance, even finding out that “Rouvin” was really some 14 year old troll- getting catfished by one of his past witnesses certainly wasn’t up there in terms of probability. And yet, it had happened. Yanagi was never leaving his house again.

 

The doors slid open, and Yanagi prepared to slink out of the building- if he left quickly enough, maybe he could salvage the remnants of his reputation- but found himself stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Yanagi turned around, only to spot some teenager staring down at their iPhone, one eyebrow raised and a smirk on their face.

 

Yanagi brushed the hand off, and the kid looked up at him, their grin growing even wider. Deep inside of him, Yanagi felt a hot wave of pure  _ fear  _ rushing up him. 

 

“Hey, asshole, you’ve gone viral. Congrats,” the kid said, holding up their iPhone so Yanagi could see the screen. It was a video of him- or some blurry, out-of-focus approximation of him, aptly titled: “CATFISHING DUMBASS LAWYER PRANK [GONE WRONG] [GONE VIOLENT]”. The focus of the video shifted from him, displaying the person taking the footage- a oddly-dressed kid with long purple hair. Yanagi vaguely remembered seeing him a couple tables over. 

 

“I had to run over here to get to you in time. The livestream  _ just  _ ended, and it’s not everyday I get to meet an internet  _ celebrity _ .” The kid’s voice was rich in sarcasm, and vaguely hidden amusement. “Hell, I even cut short one of my psychology appointments just to see you.” The kid, who was in no way an  _ actual  _ psychologist, pointed to another kid who looked like he was trying very hard to avoid everyone’s attention. “That loser over there is gonna have traumatic flashbacks for two more months ‘cause I just  _ couldn’t  _ miss the chance to meet you.”

 

“No I’m not,” he said, turning towards the “psychologist”, “Hibiki, we were just eating pizza and watching vines. I’m not actually a patient-”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Daichi!” Hibiki yelled, “Look at him, he’s delusional.” Yanagi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Look. I have had a  _ very  _ l-long night. And I d-don’t have time for this.”

 

“Aw, no time for your adoring fans? I understand, sir, you must have a lot of them,” Hibiki walked over to Daichi, grabbing his hand and sighing in a  _ very  _ melodramatic nature, “Daichi, look. I’m sorry. I know you wanted to meet- what’s your name?”   
  


“...Ryuumatsu.”

 

“I know you wanted to meet Ryuumatsu all your life, but this is just how it is on this bitch of an earth.” Hibiki gave Daichi a few comforting pats. Daichi shot Yanagi an apologetic look. Yanagi took this moment as an excuse to finally escape this godforsaken building.

 

He was going to work his absolute damned  _ hardest  _ to forget that any of this ever happened.

 

* * *

 

Yanagi returned home with little to no incident, except that his Uber driver neglected to provide even the basic level of luxury (ie, there were no free mints provided). Yanagi spent a long portion of the ride fixing his tousled hair in the car mirror, but no matter how many times he combed it with his fingers he just  _ couldn’t  _ get the speckled bloodstains out. He was met with several concerned looks from the driver, before he shot her a scathing look and she decided to mind her own damn business instead of intruding on Yanagi’s personal life.

 

The comfort of his quaint little apartment was immense. Yanagi breathed a deep sigh of relief, nudging off his heels and walking over to his office. First order of business: delete the account that had landed him in this mess. Yanagi sunk into his chair, letting his hair free of the ties. It fell around him in waves, and he shrugged his bloodstained jacket over his shoulders. Finally, he could relax. He’d need a shower sometime soon, but that could wait.

 

Maybe he should make himself a hot cocoa, just to treat himself. He deserved it.

 

...On second thoughts, maybe a glass of good wine would be more appropriate. He was sure he had some merlot tucked away somewhere. Of course, he was still underage, but nobody really gave a shit about that particular law. In all his years as a defence attorney, he’d never yet found a member of law enforcement that had arrested a kid for underage drinking. Had this been another time, Yanagi would have let this particular train of thought amuse him for the next few hours- “useless” laws had always been a fascination to him. But now, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

 

Yanagi switched the monitor on, clicking on his browser and navigating back to the dating website. The light pink background, which had once seemed to inviting (well, more inviting than the previous website he clicked on, which had blared obnoxious saxophone music the moment he opened the tab), now mocked him. Mouth curling into a snarl, he clicked on his profile, scrolling up and down in a frantic attempt to find the “DELETE” button.

 

There was none.

 

Yanagi sighed, running a hand through his hair in annoyance. It must be on some other part of the website… He clicked onto the main page again, eyes narrowed to spot any indication of a delete button, or even just an instruction manual on  _ how  _ to terminate his account- but instead, his eyes landed on the little icon that led to his messages inbox.

 

And the red blinking light, indicating that he had mail. 

 

Yanagi’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and against his best judgement, he opened up the inbox. One of the notifications was from  _ Disciple_of_Socrates _ , consisting only of a middle finger emoji. Yanagi promptly blocked him. The other notification was more interesting- apparently, he’d received several messages from  _ DicksOutForPlato _ , the same account Yanagi had previously dismissed as illegitimate. Maybe it was one of the catfishers friends, come to harass him again. 

 

Well, there was only one way to find out, wasn’t there?

 

**_DicksOutForPlato:_ ** _ I would like to preface this by indicating that your experience tonight was, by no means something I was involved with, but I still do feel guilty. Truly, it’s an odd feeling- despite having no hand in your situation, I still feel responsible. Funny how the human mind works, isn’t it? It’s almost like we’re wired to be overly empathetic… of course, that fails to acknowledge that the human species is one of the only species that consistently discriminates based on arbitrary physical characteristics independent to those that would guarantee the failure of our species. While some animals may ignore or kill the “runt” of the litter, due to its natural low survival potential, we as a species are known to discriminate and oppress those who only possess aesthetic differences. But, I digress, that’s not what I came here to say. If you would like to continue the discussion, though, I have quite a few thoughts on human nature, particularly in relation to how we treat other members of our populat _

 

**_DicksOutForPlato:_ ** _ Apologies, I hit the character limit.  _

 

**_DicksOutForPlato:_ ** _ I meerely came here to apologise, on behalf of a secondhand associate of mine. It has come to my attention that he was using my photographs and personal information to manipulate you into a setting you may have found uncomfortable. Aitou has been very apologetic about the whole ordeal, especially because Murasaki was involved, and as such he claims some level of culpability for the practical joke. There we go again, the association of guilt with oneself regardless of your level of involvement in the actual event, but in this particular situation I suppose I could see his logic- according to him, if he had not taken Murasaki out for a romantic dinner, he would never have had the chance to conspire with Toramoto and agree to record footage with the intention of publicly humiliating you via the internet.  _

 

**_DicksOutForPlato:_ ** _ Also, Toramoto has asked Murasaki, who has asked Aitou, who has asked me, to tell you to check your wallet. _

 

Yanagi stared dumbly at the screen, trying to process the huge chunks of text in front of him. From what he could gather… this “DicksOutForPlato” was apparently the  _ real  _ Rouvin Minerva, Murasaki was the person who recorded the video, and Aitou was his boyfriend… or something like that. “Toramoto” would be the catfisher… which definitely sounded familiar. Unless “DicksOutForPlato” really  _ was _ just a troll account, presumably one that had watched Muraski’s video.

 

Honestly, Yanagi didn’t want to deal with it. He blocked “Rouvin”, spending a good couple more minutes rooting around in the website for instructions on how to delete his account. One humiliating Google search later, and the account was gone. Yanagi could  _ finally  _ relax… there was only one thing still bugging him about the whole ordeal.

 

Rouvin’s last message.

 

Yanagi couldn’t shake a growing feeling of dread building up inside of him. He picked his jacket off the back of the chair, rooting around for his wallet, as his anxiety continued to grow. He swore under his breath as his fingers started to shake, before they managed to brush against his wallet- and Yanagi breathed a sigh of relief. Still… it wouldn’t hurt to look inside it, would it? Just to destroy the last lingering pieces of worry still nagging at the back of his brain.

 

Yanagi took the wallet out of the jacket, taking a short moment to admire how it glittered in the soft light of his office. He’d bought the thing of Ebay- maybe not the most high-end place to purchase it, but at least it was of remarkable quality. The iridescent engravings in the rich leather were shaped into dragon scales. It truly was one of Yanagi’s most prized possessions- or at least one of his most aesthetically pleasing ones. Calmed down significantly from his earlier fervor, he opened up the wallet…

 

Only to find it completely empty. Only a slip of paper remained- a crude drawing of a tiger with the words “get punked, bitch.” scrawled beside it. 

 

…

 

_ Hideki Toramoto was a dead man walking.  _


End file.
